Just Once
by yulanhua
Summary: After another disastrous world meeting, America invites/drags all of the nations to one smashing party at England's house. Matthew, Natalia, and Lukas all do the unforgettable. But... Just once won't hurt right? Mainly Hetero!AmeCan, AmeBel, and DenNor. Many other ships are included! Changed to M rating. Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1: Party Time!

**Hello, everyone! Thank you for deciding to read this story! ^=^ It makes me so happy and I really appreciate it!**

**Also, there will be course language throughout the fanfic and mature content will come up later on. Enjoy!**

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It was just another grand day at the world meeting.

Countries gathered, discussed economics, politics, and all the other boring stuff, aiming for globalized peace.

At least that was what it was until Alfred Fucktard Jones, a.k.a. America, decided to show up late with his mouth full of burger and fries. Of course, a certain scone-lover decided to scold him loudly and Mr. Burgers yelled back. From then on it was chaos, since every other damn country in the room decided to join in the squabble.

Canada let out a soft sigh, patting his polar bear's head, who was sitting snugly in his lap. As usual, nobody noticed him. As usual, nobody bothered to let him in on what was going on exactly. And as usual, Germany dealt with things and everyone quieted down… for a few minutes. It just got noisy again after that.

Matthew rose from his seat, placing Kumajiro on the floor and tucking his folder full of absent-minded doodles of moose and beavers under his arm before heading out the door. Of course, no one noticed him that time either. Not even his neighbour America, or the two father-like figures who had fought over him so long ago. Even with all that fighting back when he was New France, he had liked the attention and was grateful for it; now he was invisible to all of them.

It wasn't like his provinces were waiting for him at home with bright faces and maple syrup or anything. It was quite the opposite, with Quebec breaking down his door every few days, demanding for independence, and British Columbia stinking the place up with weed. Although he did like to smoke every once in a while.

Anyhow, Canada made his way out of the large building where the meeting was taking place, in British land. He first headed to the hotel he had booked for a few days and decided to stop by a coffee shop when a bright blue gaze caught his eye. Matthew froze in place, glancing behind him at the walking Kumajiro - who knew that polar bears could walk like that- and quickly looked around him. His own lavender purple gaze rested on the blue that had been following him for a while, and he simply stared.

Recognizing her as Amelia Jones, Alfred's twin sister, he slowly raised his hand and gave a little wave, along with a soft Canadian smile. She waved back and went into the building. She must have been waiting for her brother to come out… and maybe pull a few tricks on England. Poor Arthur.

As she left, he couldn't help but stare after her until Kumajiro sharply kicked him in the shin, making his owner let out a sharp yelp. Amelia was one of the very few who actually noticed Canada and acknowledged him. It was mostly for her that Matthew kept going to America's rescue when he needed it, as thanks for not treating him like a mere shadow. It was a wonder how Alfred's twin was so different from him in that way.

Matthew plopped down face-first on his bed once he was behind locked doors of the hotel, letting out a long agonized groan. His head throbbed from all of the racket and all he wanted was a nap. He glanced over at his phone and checked his texts to see that Quebec had sent him almost a hundred of them, all full of Canadian-French and some rash curses about letting her be free. Not like he would let her leave like that of course. With that, Canada snuggled into the pillows and fell asleep just like that, Kumajiro curled up on top of him.

A few hours later, at around twelve in the morning, Matthew was shaken awake by the loud ringing of his national anthem in his ear. Kumajiro was pressing his iPhone to his face. He let out a low grumble and rolled over onto his back, snatching the device from the polar bear's paws and holding it up to his ear.

It was America.

"Hey, Matthew! What's up?" Came the voice that the Canadian had started labeling annoying decades ago. To think that he was actually willing to give away his resources freely to the States at one point.

"You woke me up from a good nap… what is it, Alfred?" groaned Matthew.

"Well, there's a party at Artie's place and I am now inviting you to come! Don't worry, there aren't any spiked drinks this time." There were sure to be drugged drinks.

"Why do I not believe you… I'm not going. Good bye-"

"Too bad! I'm at your window!"

"Wait, what."

"And I'm breaking in!"

Before Matthew could try to hide behind his bed or warn the other not to do something so risky, a loud crash sounded and his look-alike tumbled in through the window before dusting the bits of glass off of his might jacket and messy hair. The American straightened up and gave the Canadian, whose complexion paled, a big grin. Grabbing his arm, Alfred slung Matthew over his shoulder like he weighed nothing and let out a big shout.

"Let's goooooooooooooooo!" And he kicked open the door this time and ran off.

Canada was kidnapped.

* * *

Natalia slowly shifted closer and closer to Russia's side of the worn seats of the cab they were in. In turn, Ivan Braginsky leaned away. He tilted so far that his cheek almost pressed against the cold glass. He would have earned a sharp glare from the driver in front of him, if only he hadn't nearly scared the crap out of the man by kolkolkol-ing when he got on. Ukraine didn't pay any attention to her younger brother's agony, looking out her window to the busy streets outside.

Belarus sighed and gently lowered her head until it rested on her brother's arm, her gloved hands clasping one of his. A faint blush lit her cheeks as she pressed even closer to the poor Russian. Moments like this were what she lived for. It was a rare occasion to go to a party the annoying America set up and to sit right next to a small taxi like this with her brother, even though her sister was right there as well.

In all honesty, the Belarusian didn't expect her brother to go upon hearing from Lithuania about the party. Little did she know was that the real reason Russia was so excited to attend the party was because of a rumour that Yao strips when he is drunk.

He _was_ excited.

Natalia could tell by the tears brimming his wonderful purple orbs that he disliked the affection she currently was showing for him, but that would change soon… right?

Now putting most of her upper body weight on her brother's arm, she glanced down at the watch on her wrist, decorated with fragile looking thin silver to see that it was now midnight.

Soon, they arrived at England's house and Natalia clung to Ivan tightly, making him drag her all the way to the door. As soon as they stepped inside, loud music blasted in their ears, neon lights flashing everywhere.

The younger sister's eyes widened and her grip laxed on her brother's arm. Wrong move.

Using this chance, the Russian pushed the other away before disappearing into the crowd of nations. Losing her balance, Natalia fell back into a table with a bowl as big as a tire full of spiked punch.

_Crash._

The bowl fell right on her head, the liquid spilling everywhere and even down her shirt. That just felt wrong. She had also tried to grab onto something to avoid falling, accidentally, shoving some plastic cups off the table as well.

With a groan, she pulled her dripping hair back and glared at the nations around her who all quickly moved back in fear of being stabbed in the butt by the angered Belarusian.

Of course, being a still sober gentleman, England stepped forward with some napkins to help her, but jumped back, startled by a certain American's voice.

"THE HERO IS HERE!" Alfred bellowed, standing at the wide open door, a certain Canadian on his shoulder. "And he brought the maaaaple maaaasteeeeeeeeeeeeeer!"

Holding onto Matthew by the ankles, he began to slowly spin on the spot, going faster and faster until Canada became a red blur.

"Oh dear," muttered Arthur. Oh dear was right.

When Natalia finally got to her feet, her dress soaked with the orange-pink liquid, Alfred let go of Matthew. The last thing she saw was a mess of blonde hair.

The Canadian's head connected with hers and she was out.

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**Thank you for reading and have a nice day! Please leave some reviews and tell me what you think! ^^**

**By the way, British Columbia and Quebec are both Canadian provinces. BC is located on the far west coast of Canada, right above the state of Washington. The city of Vancouver, where the 2010 Winter Olympics were held, is there. Its capital is Victoria, on Vancouver Island.**

**Quebec is located next to Hudson Bay and Ontario. Its capital is Quebec City and Montreal, the second largest city in Canada is located in this province as well. Most Quebecois speak Canadian-French and most British Columbians speak English.**


	2. Chapter 2: Unpleasantries

**Hello, everyone! ^^ I had some free time today so I decided to upload another chapter! Sorry that it's a bit shorter than the last one... ^^; Hope you like it! Norway comes in in this chapter eue**

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Now Natalia had two bumps on her head: one on top from the bowl and the other on the front from that stupid Canadian flying into her. She came to half an hour after being knocked out, groaning softly from the throbbing pain. Looking around herself, she figured that she was in a room… a guest room, from the lack of personal furniture. And she was on a bed. The punch was rinsed out of her hair. Also, she had been changed out of her dress into a white blouse and dark navy jeans, her ribbon tucked into the back pocket. By who? Letting out a sigh, Natalia slowly slid off of the bed when a loud voice chirped behind her.

"Yo, Bela! You up already?"

The Belarusian fell to the floor in an ungraceful manner, entirely different than what she had planned. She glared up at the American who was grinning down at her like the air-headed prick he was. Maybe not entirely air-headed, but stupid enough.

Wait.

Did he change her out of her clothes?

Her eyes widened when the thought struck her and she felt along her thigh for the knife that she kept strapped to her leg, only to feel rough fabric.

Right.

A gloved hand reached out to her and she smacked it away with distaste. Never was she going to let her brother's enemy touch her, even if it was to help her. Natalia got up on her own feet, tilting to the side slightly due to the continuous throbbing in her head making her unbalanced. This time, Alfred grabbed her arm and helped steady her, only to be shoved away again. Ouch.

"What do you want, Jones?" she hissed, eyes narrowed. She honestly didn't have any personal reason why she hated him so much. Just the whole Russia vs America thing.

"I just wanted to apologize for earlier. You know, throwing what's-his-face at your head." His smile stayed frozen.

Natalia eyed him, from his slightly dirty brown shoes up to the point of that stupid stray hair. A "cowlick", was it? And he didn't even remember his brother's name… Wait, who? Anyways, she didn't trust him. His aura was entirely different from Ivan's… the complete opposite. The gleam of his smile was almost blinding. "So, this apology includes stripping me from my dress and changing me into this… foreign wear?" She snapped, grabbing a chair nearby and lifting it above her head, threatening to throw it at him. "Perverted bastard…!"

Immediately, the American raised his arms in surrender. "Nat, stop-"

"DON'T CALL ME THAT!"

"Fine, Bela!"

"NOT THAT EITHER!"

"Fine, uh, dudette! Like, calm down! I didn't change your clothes, Artie's sister did! Although it does look like you have some nice jugs…" The chair was lifted even higher. "I only came just two minutes ago! To apologize! Really!"

Natalia breathed heavily as she stared at the other, her brows furrowed and her dark, purple-blue eyes flashing anger. After some careful thought, she slowly lowered the chair. "...Apology accepted." In the end, she wouldn't have a chance against him anyway.

Even so, America let out a sigh of relief. "I swear… you and your brother are absolutely crazy. Difference is, you're pretty. Really pretty."

"Shut up." Damn him. Just throwing compliments everywhere won't make her lower her guard around him. Shoving Alfred to the side, she made her way to the door and back to the party to look for her big brother.

* * *

Matthew sighed as he plopped onto one of England's couches, pressing an ice pack to his head. This was horrible. Stupid America. Stupid party. Stupid Kumatoto for not saving him. Stupid everything. He watched the other nations nod to the beat, some dancing, and some just doing inappropriate stuff that doesn't need to be mentioned. Why did Alfred drag him here anyways.

He had to apologize now… to Belarus. The scary one. Her brother, Russia, was kinda okay compared to her, even if he had been sat on by the larger country. The female nation sent chills down the Canadian's spine. He had to apologize regardless, even if it was stupid Alfred's fault with his idiot tactics and dragging him to this damn party.

As he watched the others, he caught the eye of Yao, who was trying to keep Ivan away from himself by hiding behind Kiku. Not that the poor guy could do anything about it. China blinked over at Canada before giving a slight nod and a smile in greeting. Matthew returned the smile, although the man didn't see it, since he was now on the run.

Never did he think that Yao would smile at him again, not after what he did to the Chinese immigrants near the western coast. He never even thought that there was that kind of side to him. A side that could hurt others. A selfish, narcissistic, and arrogant side.

"Matveeeey~!" A voice, along with the sound of two large masses bouncing made him stiffen.

He turned to the source of the voice, only to have breasts stuffed in his face as arms wrapped around his head, hugging him tightly. Only one country was able to do something so fatal.

"Matvey~!" Ukraine whined softly. "I can't find my little brother or my little sister! Matvey, you have to help me! Matveeeeeeey!"

Someone had too much vodka.

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"So, Nor, enjoying the party?" cackled a certain annoying voice in Lukas's ear.

The Norwegian simply let out a huff and turned his back to Denmark, scanning the crowd of nations in the living room for any signs of Iceland, or maybe even a puffin. He wasn't supposed to be there. He was too young, for Pete's sake. What if he got drugged and hooked up with some random girl? It was Denmark's fault for dragging them both here. All Lukas wanted was to spend some time to himself. Wait… What if Iceland slept with a _guy_? That absolutely cannot happen. He won't allow it. His cute little brother being tainted like that...

"Nor! Nor, Nor, Nor, Nor, Nor, Nor, Nor…"

Norway stopped listening to him, his eyes narrowing further when he didn't see any short silvery hair or adorable crystal blue eyes. None.

"...Nor, Nor, Nor, Nor, NOR, NOR, NOR!"

The voice came back. His eye twitched at each "Nor" until finally, he turned on the spot and gave a good kick to the Dane's shin. "What?" He snarled.

"I think… I'm gonna…" Denmark's goofy grin disappeared and he suddenly bent over, letting out a loud "OUEEEELCH" sound as he did. Norway's face paled when he felt something splatter onto his feet. He didn't need to look down to see what it was.

Why was this happening to him.

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**Please review and tell me what you think! I would like some feedback ^=^**

**The first two chapters are more of introductory... I apologize for the lack of actual action TTnTT Things will be picking up soon in the later chapters, though!**

**Also, thank you, **_RomanoandThatStupidjerk_ **and **_begitte_** for the review and follows! ^^**


	3. Chapter 3: Are you Serious?

**I decided to change the rating to M because of the sex-related topics that will be appearing in the future and possibly some smut.**

**I apologize to those who don't like this change and I hope you will forgive me TTnTT**

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There was a reason why Natalia hated parties.

Parties and Americans for that matter. The only thing keeping the Belarusian in this house full of nations who were already drunk, dancing, or making out was her brother. Where was he anyways?

She made her way around bodies and puke, especially a large puddle of it that was covering a certain Norwegian's shoes. From the look of his expression, somebody was going to be strangled to death. Shaking her head, she was making her way upstairs when France's naked body rolled down the steps. Surprised by why he was tumbling down, she tilted her head upwards to see a certain enraged Vietnamese. Ah. France must have tried to use the commotion to woo her back to being his colony.

Natalia remembered when Vietnam used to live in her brother's house, but now, the bitch was with her family again, the same family of Eastern Asians whose relations were, in her point of view, most fragile of the nations. So many different views and histories clumped together caused disasters. She was just glad that there weren't any other women in her big brother's house now except for herself. Now that she thought about it, she had seen every Asian nation except for China. Where was he… Oh god.

Natalia rushed up the stairs and started opening every room, her panic rising every time she found that Yao wasn't in any of them. It can't be... it can't be, it can't be…. She burst into the last room in the hall to the right, her fists clenched tightly.

Her complexion paled to the same shade as a white sheet when she saw who was on the bed and whose gloved fingers were enclosed around whose member, and whose pipe was being used inappropriately. The two men, one immensely large (a.k.a. Russia) and the other having the figure of a breastless girl (a.k.a. China), didn't notice the girl who was getting close to grabbing the closest object and beating them senseless with it. However, Natalia simply stepped back out of the room and shut the door.

The man she loved for most of her life was gay… gay for another who was over four thousand years old. When her gaze first landed on the scene, her first instinct was to brutally murder the one who dared make love to her brother. This quickly changed to dread, then horror, and finally, disappointment. She was immensely disappointed with herself. Belarus had to admit, she was not blind to the look her brother had in his eyes whenever he watched Yao across the table at world meetings, nor the small advances he made to the elder nation when he thought no one else was around.

This was just… embarrassing. She let out a grand sigh and started to walk back to the stairs when a the gleam of well polished china caught her eye. She peeked into the room to the left, which had its door hanging open, and saw shelves of fancy tea sets… a stereotypical British hobby. Natalia stared at the beauty of those cups and plates with a blank look for a few minutes until something snapped in her. Why should these utensils be well polished and kept while she was tossed to the side and not even considered? Why should these tea cups seem to have more love than she does? Grabbing a chair set up near the shelves, probably used for a certain fuzzy brow man to simply gaze at his beauty, she began to swing it about, the light sounds of shattering china lifting the discomfort from her heart bit by bit.

England can try to kill her later.

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"Bror… how can you get that drunk that quickly?" Lukas hissed as he threw his shoes into the bathtub of England's room and began scrubbing them furiously with a brush. Luckily, his pants were not dirtied. Even without his clothes getting puked on, the stench had gotten into the fabric.

Outside of the washroom, a low groan replied to his hostility, along with a murmured apology. Norway let out a sigh and just threw the shoes into the tub before walking out to where Denmark lay on his back, his hand resting over his eyes. Lukas sat himself next to the Dane and sniffed at his sleeve for the tenth time that night before getting up again and starting to pace around the room. He didn't want to go out there in bare feet (his socks were dirtied too), and this late into the party night, who knew what could be in the carpet. And what about Emil? Oh God, what could have happened to him?

"Nor…?" croaked the man on the floor.

Lukas slowed to a stop before looking over at the other again, his eyes narrowed slightly. "...What?" He ventured cautiously, not wanting to be dragged into one of his crazy ideas again. The guy was like America, often spouting ridiculous and childish things. However, he was different. Lukas just knew he was… but he was currently still intoxicated, so he still had to be careful.

"Don't leave me… please." The Dane's voice was cracking with emotion and when the Norwegian approached him, he could see tears slipping out from under his hand. "Sweden… And Finland… they both left me didn't they? But you didn't… If you leave, I won't be able to take it. I just wanted us all to be together. To stay together. I'm sorry for dragging you down all the time… Nor, all I need is you."

Well this was new. His mindset had returned to the time when the Kalmar Union was crumbling to the ground. Lukas remembered the shame and humiliation he had gone through during those years and yet he had stayed with Denmark… he had stayed until he was as weak as a simple province. He couldn't remember why he did so exactly, but the way Mathias was currently acting was embarrassing.

Shaking his head, Norway reached over to the fellow Nordic nation's strong hand and gently lifted it off of his upper face, revealing sorrow-filled ocean blue eyes. He let out a soft huff and gently patted his messy blonde head as if to tell him it was alright. He regretted making that move a few seconds later.

The same strong hand clamped around Lukas's thin wrist and in the blink of an eye, the Norwegian found himself on the floor, his the air knocked out of him. He took one big intake of air when the look in that previously apologetic gaze turned into something different: determination.

"You're the only one I need, Nor…" he whispered softly as he closed in.

Lukas tried to move his arms to push the other away, only to realize that Denmark's hands were still enclosed on his wrists. Before he could say anything, the larger man's lips locked with his and the Norwegian's entire mind and body were filled with dread.

He had forgotten to tell the other to rinse his mouth.

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**Thank you,** _soma342, thenordic5forever96, crazy dragon ninja,_ **and **_laglacedefeu_ **for the favourites, reviews, and follows for the previous chapter!**

**Please review and tell me what you think! ^^**

**(poor Lukas, he's always caught up in pretty gross situations... _)**


	4. Chapter 4: Caught

Matthew breathed heavily as he plopped down on the bench on England's porch, almost having been suffocated by Ukraine's chest. He had finally got her to lift herself off of him and carried her into an empty guest room then tucking her in, only to be tackled again by the female nation. He had enough of overly large breasts. Never again will he let himself be ten meters within radius of Ukraine when there is liquor in the same room.

He tilted his head back and stared at the flower beds now trampled by Greece's cats and tried to think of how Alfred even managed to get his former father figure to agree to having a party at his house… Maybe he was drugged at the time? Who knew. This was something that would never happen again, that's for sure.

From a window, peeking in, he saw France rolling down the stairs in nude. Letting out a sigh, he shook his head. He was honestly partly glad that England came along and snatched him away from the Frenchman's rose scented embrace when he was little. At the same time, both had their odd quirks, for example, Arthur had imaginary fairy friends.

Matthew was about to lift himself off of the bench when the window next to him shattered and a body flew right into him, knocking him off onto the porch. He had luckily covered his eyes in time with his quick reflexes. The Canadian removed his hands from his eyes to see a certain cowlick springing upwards right in front of his nose, making him go cross-eyed. Shaking his head, he gently pushed off the person who had taken him down and saw that it was Amelia- a very drunk Amelia with gum in her hair and a beer stain on her shirt. He could feel the blood draining from his face when his gaze focused on the cowlick again. There were two options: ditch the girl and just hide somewhere in the house, or carry her back inside and risk being seen by America and being misunderstood. The first might get him scones shoved down his throat by England for being the complete opposite of a gentleman and the latter risked getting bullets shot up his ass. Neither sounded pleasant.

Letting out a sigh, Matthew decided to put his anus at risk and gently lifted up Amelia in his arms before carefully carrying her inside- wait. Why was she thrown out here in the first place? What if whatever threw her was still inside? Slowly retracing his steps, he turned around and instead walked all the way to his hotel room. He kicked the door shut behind him, which Kumajiro locked for him, and set Amelia down on the bed. The Canadian looked around the dark, quiet room, and smiled softly in satisfaction before going to take a shower. He could take the gum out of her hair later.

* * *

When their lips met, Norway could taste pretty much everything Denmark had had that day, especially the beer. Oh, the beer. It just brought out the smell, eh? Lukas wondered if this was a good time to cry, but before he did so, he swung his leg up, kneeing Mathias in the crotch, then rammed his forehead against his, making the Dane let go of him and rear back in pain. The Norwegian then scrambled out from under him and gave him a good kick before running into the washroom again and putting his mouth to the faucet. He twisted the handle to full power of cold water and rinsed the insides of his mouth over and over again before taking some of England's mouthwash and swishing it around. For thirty minutes, he repeated these actions over and over, ignoring the sounds of Denmark making out with the wall.

Wait, what?

Lukas spat out the last of the mouthwash and rushed out of the washroom to see that his Bror was indeed making out with the wall. He was calling out for Sweden now. Why him? The Norwegian wiped his lips with his sleeve, immediately regretting the move because of the stench that hit his nose as soon as he brought the fabric close, and approached the Dane before prying him off of the poor wall. In turn, Mathias frowned and glared down at him, though his gaze softened at the tear brimmed eyes of Norway from the overuse of mouthwash. The stuff stung, ya know?

"Aww, Lukie~" He hated that nickname. Denmark wrapped his arms around the other and brought him close. When was this guy going to be sober? "What happened? Did some meanies bully you again? Don't worry, I'll protect you-"

Lukas roughly shoved him away, his patience snapping. "Protect me? Hah. As if you ever did. And the only 'meanie' bullying me is you! Why don't you pick up after your sorry ass for once and grow up? If you don't have Sweden, you go for me. And even when I'm still here, staying with a sorry excuse of a man, you still think of Berwald!" He had to stop himself. The Dane was drunk and this was not the time to let his rage flow. They weren't even dating. There was no reason for him to get this angry, right? However, he couldn't stop. Not when he had just started. "Make up your mind, Bror. And by the way, to make things clear, Berwald is after Tino's small ass, not your lumpy one." He took in a large intake of air when he was done and let it out slowly. That was oddly satisfying. The look on Denmark's face, however, was not.

Mathias looked as if Canada had took a hockey stick and shot a puck into his stomach. His eyes were glazed with pain and the childish happiness he often had disappeared completely.

"You're right, Norway…" A chill went down Lukas's spine when Denmark actually used his full name. He had never done that before. "I'll leave you be. Sorry for the trouble." With that, he headed to the door and was out. By this time, the party had finally died down and outside, it was quiet.

It felt as if Matthew had shot **ten** hockey pucks into Norway's chest and gut. He had succeeded in getting Denmark back to sober-land, but a new emptiness formed in him as soon as his Bror left the room.

* * *

Natalia panted softly as she took in the shattered china scattered on the floor and on the shelves in front of her- shattered china that used to be England's collection of tea sets that is. With a satisfied huff, the Belarusian tossed the chair she used to the side, only to want it back in her hands seconds later.

A low whistle sounded from the door. "Wow… Artie's gonna be pissed."

She jumped slightly before slowly turning to the open door to see America leaning against the frame. "Well, he won't know who did it and that's all that matters," she huffed, straightening her back and folding her hands together in front of her.

"Won't he?" Alfred gave her a wide smirk, the kind of smirk Natalia wanted to rip apart.

"...You wouldn't," she hissed, her eyes narrowing. "Even if you are my brother's enemy, you wouldn't be a 'tattletale' and rat me out like that."

"Wouldn't I?" He shot back another irritating question. Those two words sparked even more hate inside the Belarusian.

She slowly approached the American, her glare only sharpening as she got closer. "If you do, I will cut off your testicles in your sleep and shove them down your throat."

"Didn't think you would even want to touch them."

Her hand shot out, and as if he was anticipating it, Alfred caught her wrist, gripping it tightly, but not too much to hurt her.

"You… You are _impossible_…!" She snarled, trying to yank her arm away. "Let go of me…!"

"I have a question for you, Nat- Belarus… A real question," said America slowly, watching her every movement. He kept his hand locked on her wrist. "Why would you go after your brother when he's gay for Yao?"

She stopped struggling at this and just gave him a blank look. He knew. Did everyone know? Did all the nations know this and just watched with looks filled with pity as she strived for Russia's love and attention? Natalia simply stared at him for a minute or so, not knowing what to say. "I didn't know." She blurted out the truth. "No, I did know, just that I actually saw the raw proof before my eyes half an hour ago."

"Huh." Alfred raised a brow but still didn't let go of her arm, nope. The two nations stared at each other, dark lavender eyes meeting crystal blue, and the silence stretched until America blurted out: "Go out on a date with me."

"What?"

"I said go out on a date with me. Sure everyone thinks you're batshit crazy, but I don't think you're only that."

"I don't know if I should take that as a compliment."

"Go out with me," Alfred repeated for the third time, the look in his eyes absolutely serious. By this time, his grip had slacked and Natalia was able to pull her arm free.

"No," she replied, an answer that seemed to come along fairly easily.

"No?" Alfred almost looked surprised.

"No." Belarus shook her head and brushed past him to head out into the hallway.

After a few seconds of silence from the American, probably for thought, he blurted out, "I'll tell Artie that you wrecked his collection if you don't."

Oh, was he really going to go this way? At this, Natalia stopped in her tracks and turned back to Alfred, her eyes narrowing in distaste again. Using such a threat in order to get what he wanted… England was not that powerful most of the time in her opinion, but she did not want to mess with him when he was upset. From the look in his eyes, however, she could tell that the American didn't want to push things this far. A bit of shame tinted his gaze. Damn hell it should.

"...Fine," she growled through gritted teeth. A wide grin appeared on Alfred's face, surprising Belarus slightly and making her expression soften for a split second. "But just one date. Just one." With that, she turned and left the house, not looking back even when she could hear her new date's excited chuckle behind her. If it were any other day before then, she would have let herself be killed by mountains of scones before ever spending time alone with Alfred as a date. This couldn't be too bad, could it?

Natalia headed to Russia's house and went straight to her room to check on her phone, which she had left behind. Fifty texts all ending with "-the Hero!" awaited her. She didn't know America's number until that night.

This could definitely get very bad.

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**Thank you for reading and please leave a review! I love to hear feedback ^^**

**Also, many thanks to **_geiz**, **hetalianfolever,_ **and **_timorb22 _**for the favourites and follows! I love you all =**_**  
**_


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